Why do fans keep leaving playoff games early?

I'll admit, this headline is a little unfair. One of the two playoff games I can think of where home fans inexplicably left early was, of course, Game 6 of the 2012 NBA Finals between San Antonio and Miami.

The other game happened today (Sunday) in the NFC championship with Green Bay at Seattle. 

In both cases, the home teams looked doomed before making incredible comebacks.

Miami trailed by five with about 30 seconds left. I don't blame any Heat fan for feeling pessimistic. But while improbable, that was not an impossible deficit to erase. And wouldn't you risk potential heartbreak if there was a chance this happened?



Seattle fans were in a similar situation on Sunday. The Seahawks trailed 19-7 late in the game, and they were lucky to only be down two scores. I wouldn't like those chances, either. But like the Ray Allen shot, incredible plays can occur. Case in point: 



This would be near impossible to prove, but I'm sure home fans left early from dozens, if not hundreds, of playoff games like these two. The only difference was their teams never came back to make them look like fools.

But the results don't excuse the process. Why leave a playoff game early when your team has a chance of winning? 

(Note: I have never attended a professional playoff game in any sport. I attended an Elite 8 game in 2007, but that game was between two teams -- UCLA and Kansas -- I didn't have huge loyalties to. I was with my dad, a UCLA alum, so no, I didn't leave before the final buzzer.)

Avoiding traffic is one of the main points people bring up. Traffic sucks, I get it. If you're at a regular season game that looks like a loss for your team, I totally understand leaving 30 minutes early so you can avoid traffic, or at least be stuck in it 30 minutes earlier than you would have if you stayed until the end.

But these are playoff games. You paid hundreds-to-thousands of dollars to be there, and you know sporting events take four-five hours (often longer) when you factor in travel. If you needed to be somewhere shortly after the game ended, what's the point of shelling out a concession worker's monthly paycheck to go? Your house or a bar can't be that much worse of a viewing location.

Again, I get it if this is a regular season game. You stuck around until the last 1/20th of the game, and the last 1/20th probably won't change your feelings about the game or the money you spent to spectate. Even if your team came back, the majority of those comebacks won't be meaningful in the standings or ignite Twitter with their unbelievability. 

That last sentence doesn't apply to a playoff game. The Seahawks either go to the Super Bowl or go home after Sunday. Those are the only two possibilities. If your team has a chance -- albeit a slim one -- to advance to the biggest game of the year (a game you almost certainly don't have tickets to), why not see if your team can pull of the amazing? Are you superstitious about your affect on your team's performance?

Other than traffic, superstition is one of the few reasons I can come up with for leaving early. Maybe you don't want to see the clock hit zero and see the opponent celebrate. That isn't unreasonable, but is the pain that much sharper when you see the end? 

Whatever the reasons, it's hard to find any (in a general sense) that are excusable.

Last Monday, I watched the entire College Football Playoff national championship game at a bar. I'm an Oregon alum, so I was understandably solemn in the final minutes. But even after Ohio State went up 42-20 with under a minute left, I thought about Oregon's chances to pull off something historic. "Kickoff return for a TD, recover onside kick, quick TD, recover onside kick, quick TD, two-point conversion." Those were the actual thoughts running through my head. Ridiculous thoughts, but fans often think irrationally.

I'm also a terrible Oregon fan compared to many. It's not a stretch to say several fans, even casual ones, hold onto any slice of hope in dire circumstances. Teams have made improbable comebacks, and they will again. 

Some are calling Sunday's NFC championship game one of the best playoff games in years. Seahawks fans who left early got to watch the incredible finish on TV, outside of a rumbling CenturyLink Field. Minutes earlier, they were contributing to the noise. Now, instead of basking in the euphoria that is attending one of the most exciting playoff games ever, they'll feel as much regret as they will joy. All because they wanted to beat traffic.
The best stories I read this week:

The Man Behind The Swag: Nick Young, by Lee Jenkins, Sports Illustrated.

I knew this would be a good piece because Lee Jenkins, but I wasn't totally expecting the depth of character Jenkins illustrates in Young. A must-read.

"Young wears an open-mouthed grin whether opining about high fashion or reflecting on unspeakable tragedy. He is a bright light in a dark corner, a role he assumed and perfected long before he reached the Lakers. All he had to do was flash that smile and shoot that ball, and he could lift everybody’s spirits, sometimes even his own. “My dad tells me I smile to keep from crying,” Young says. “I don’t know about that. But I do think you sometimes smile to hide.""

To Fall in Love With Anyone, Do This, by Mandy Len Catron, The New York Times.

If you have a crush on someone who doesn't like you back, just force him/her to stare into your eyes for four straight minutes, reports the Times. ... Don't be like this me, click the link and upgrade to a much more thought-provoking, insightful line of thinking.

"So it was with the eye, which is not a window to anything but a rather clump of very useful cells. The sentiment associated with the eye fell away and I was struck by its astounding biological reality: the spherical nature of the eyeball, the visible musculature of the iris and the smooth wet glass of the cornea. It was strange and exquisite."

Technology Has Made Life Different, but Not Necessarily More Stressful, by Claire Cain Miller, The New York Times (The Upshot).

A good piece that recalls a larger point I often argue about with other people (usually older, mostly my mom): technology is changing our lifestyles, not necessarily worsening them.

"Just as the telephone made it easier to maintain in-person relationships but neither replaced nor ruined them, this recent research suggests that digital technology can become a tool to augment the relationships humans already have." 

How Headlines Change the Way We Think, by Maria Konnikova, The New Yorker.

I read this last month, but due to the lack of great stories I read this week (sorry) and the excellence of this one, it's worth sharing.

"The headline, it turns out, had done more than simply reframe the article. In the case of the factual articles, a misleading headline hurt a reader’s ability to recall the article’s details. That is, the parts that were in line with the headline, such as a declining burglary rate, were easier to remember than the opposing, non-headlined trend. Inferences, however, remained sound: the misdirection was blatant enough that readers were aware of it and proceeded to correct their impressions accordingly.

The Innocent Man, Part Two, by Pamela Colloff, Texas Monthly. 

I shared Part One last week, and I predicted I'd love Part Two as much. Call me Nostradamus. 

"Having worn only loose-fitting prison whites for as long as he could remember, he stared at them as he was unshackled: a white button-down shirt, khakis, boxers, and a pair of socks. Unaccustomed to buttons, he fumbled them as he dressed himself. As he slid on the khakis, which felt impossibly soft, he began to cry."